When in Rome
by MyFrenzy
Summary: Miley knew it was wrong. It couldn't possibly be. But will one midnight change what she thought forever?...or only for that moment? Oneshot. Moliver. Fluff. T for some language.


_Small oneshot I definitley enjoyed writing. And I hope you enjoy reading. Reviews are welcome, good or bad. (:_

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_**When in Rome**_

Miley didn't know when she started feeling this way.

Was it when she saw them kissing? Or maybe when they admitted their love for each other? Or when she broke up with Jake Ryan after a while of dating him, thinking she loved him, and then ending up with fake feelings, and he was there to support her through everything?

Or had it started way before those moments?

She didn't know. She didn't care.

The feeling of love was the most amazing yet hurtful thing she had ever experienced. She couldn't do anything about it—she couldn't talk to anyone about it.

The only person in the world she talked about these things with was the one to be most affected.

Miley's eyes shut tight and she bit her lip, feeling the wind blow through her hair. She was out on her balcony in the middle of the night, with her night gown and not being able to sleep. This feeling was tugging at her too much lately—and she didn't know what to do about it.

Every time she shut her eyes, his face came up. Either laughing or acting goofy, in those ways that made him look so cute.

Miley never denied he was handsome. She never denied the obvious…in her head. The way his hair just fell gracefully in place with his head, his brown eyes big and curious, so amazed at everything around him. And his new, shorter haircut, which fit him even more perfect that before, shorter, straighter, it brought out his most handsome features.

It wasn't possible. Miley knew that. Miley knew that the feeling she had had to go away. They were unhealthy for everyone. She knew that even though it was undeniable, and it hurt so deeply, she just couldn't do anything about it.

She looked at her phone for a minute. Would she do it? She couldn't. It was after midnight now, he was probably asleep.

But she needed to hear his voice. Maybe—just maybe, his voice could lure him to sleep.

Couldn't it?

She didn't care. She grabbed her cell phone and pressed the number in which he was on speed dial. On the fifth ring, with each one making her heart beat faster and faster, he finally picked up.

"Miley?" he said groggily.

Miley's breath caught. His voice was all she needed. It was beautiful…in that sort of hot way in a guy.

"Oliver," Miley said, her voice returning. "Hi." She said.

There was a long pause, and Miley feared he would hang up. _Don't hang up, _she pleaded silently. _I need to hear you breathe at least._

"Why are you calling so late?" he finally said. "Is everything alright?"

No, nothing was alright. She loved him so much, and it wasn't right. He loved Lily—but she faked a happy voice and put on her very best fake smile, as if he could see her through the phone.

"No, no, everything's fine. I just…" Miley thought, trying not to panic. "I just wanted to talk. I couldn't sleep…and Lily wouldn't pick up," she added quickly. She knew the brunette was going to ask the reason behind why she didn't call her best girl friend instead.

"Oh," Oliver sounded confused. "Okay, well," Miley heard him yawn from the other line, which made her smile slightly. "What's wrong? Anything on your mind?"

_Yes_, Miley thought. _You_.

"Nothing in particular," Miley said, trying to be nonchalant. "Just really stressed out because Hannah hasn't sold more than a hundred tickets in Boston, and that's just scary…she used to sell more than that, you know?" That was true, but Miley knew the numbers would pick up soon. The tickets were on sale for a week only for VIPs, then it went open to public.

But Oliver didn't know that. As long as he said something to her, soothe her without knowing he was.

"Miley, there's no need to worry about it," Miley heard a soft click on the other side. Turning on a lamp? "You're Hannah Montana, alright? I don't think it'll stay in a hundred. You're beautiful and talented—a lot more people are going to buy soon, and you'll see you'll be sold out," he said, his voice low, deep, and sleepy.

Miley thought he was much more serious when sleepy. He would have made this conversation a joke any other time.

Not that she would have minded.

"I don't know," Miley said, trying to make up more excuses. "It seems like Hannah's finally dying down, you know? What once rises must fall."

"You will never fall, Miley," he assured her. Oh, God, Miley wanted so bad to embrace him, embrace him and never let go. It would be perfect. A perfect moment—where no obstacles existed. "Hannah will always live. More and more kids come, and you're music keeps getting better…" Oliver left it there, knowing probably that it had already made Miley feel better.

Miley sighed. "Oliver…" I love you, she wanted to say. She wanted to leave it out in the open. Why not? It was midnight, he was consoling her. Maybe he would think she was finally sleepy. When in Rome, right?

"I love you," she muttered, her heart beating wildly.

"I love you, too, Miley. You're my best friend, remember?" Oliver chuckled lowly from the other line. Miley grimaced. Okay, so no. That didn't go as planned.

But she couldn't handle it anymore. She felt as if she was about to burst, she needed to tell him, finally, that she loved him. Loved him so much, with so much of her soul that everything in her world now seemed to revolve around him.

"Would you think I'm crazy if I asked you to come to my house right now?" Miley didn't know she was going to ask that, but it was out in the open now.

There was a sort pause. "Yes," Oliver said, now sounding more awake. Miley bit her lip and was about to ask him to forget about it, but then Oliver said, "But you know I like doing crazy stuff."

"So you'll come? Just for a while…I need the presence of a friend." Miley grinned widely. Please, oh please, let him come, she begged inwardly.

"Hope that I don't get caught, and I'll be there in less than five minutes," Oliver said, and hung up.

He was coming. She couldn't believe he was coming. He truly was a best friend. A great one…and she wanted to finally tell him the truth. At midnight.

Trying not to make too much noise, Miley crept downstairs and out the front porch after putting her longer robe on. The night air was chilly and damp, but she didn't care. Anything—she would do anything to see Oliver come here.

A few minutes later, he appeared very quietly, almost creepily, on the front porch.

"Oliver!" Miley whispered excitedly. She ran up to him and hugged him, closing her eyes and praying, so, so hard, that he would just stay in her arms for a moment.

"Miley, you're pulling me down and it kind of hurts," Oliver muttered, and Miley blushed as she pulled away.

"Sorry," she murmured. "I'm just really glad to see you." Miley smiled at Oliver, and he smiled back, making her fall in love all over again.

"It's all good here," he said, trying to sound cool, and Miley giggled. "So what's up? Why did you need the presence of a friend?"

Miley's smile faded and she looked at the ground. Oh, God, what was she thinking before? She couldn't confess her love! That was utterly stupid! It would freak Oliver out and it would never be the same between them.

But like she had felt before, she was about to burst. She couldn't contain her feeling any longer.

"Miley?" Oliver whispered, trying to get her to look up.

"Actually," Miley started. "I needed your presence, not just anyone's." Miley finally looked up to a very confused looking Oliver. Miley didn't know what to say next. Should she finally say the tree words? Should she wait to see what he said…?

"I don't get you," Oliver whispered, and Miley's eyes started stinging.

"I know it's wrong," Miley said after a long period of silence, in which Oliver waited patiently. "But it's just…undeniable…very horrible…I don't know. I don't know what to do about it, Oliver, and you must hate me after this, I know, and you can go and tell the whole world if you like but…" Miley finally looked into Oliver's still puzzled eyes. "I don't know when I feel for you, Oliver."

Oliver's eyes widened in comprehension. "Wha-?" he blinked, and raised an eyebrow. "Miley, I—"

"Don't," Miley pleaded. "I know you love Lily, but I can't help loving you. I can't help feeling this way. I'm sorry you don't feel the same way, I really am, but the fact is I needed to get it out of my system."

Miley turned around and started walking back to the house, when a tight hand grabbed her arm, and turned her back to the position she was in before.

"You can't walk away from someone when you tell them something that big," Oliver hissed angrily, his eyes practically shooting sparks.

Miley's heart raced. "Why-why are you mad?" she was suddenly a bit scared.

"Why am I mad?" Oliver laughed once without humor and let Miley's arm go. "Why am I mad?! You choose now to realize it?!" he practically spat on her face.

"What?" Miley stuttered. What did he mean?

"I loved you Miley," he finally said. "I don't know, maybe I still do. But I knew you would never feel the same way for me," Oliver's fist clenched. Miley's eyes finally released the tears. "But now I found Lily, and I thought she could replace you. And slowly, very slowly, she has been starting to. But now you tell me this?!" Oliver flexed his hands. "It's just not fair, Miley. To me or to Lily."

"I'm not fair?!" Miley exploded. "Oliver, you're practically using Lily as a way to get over me!" Miley kept spilling tears. "You can't tell me that _I'm_ not being fair!"

"I am not using her!" he yelled, tears starting to threaten him as well. "I like her! No, I don't love her, like I love…or used to love, you! But I like her, and don't you dare tell me that I don't, because then you can rot in hell for all I care Miley Stewart!"

Miley couldn't believe what he had just said. "That's what you want me to do? Rot in hell? Fine. Excuse me then." Miley turned around, trying not to burst full out then and there, but Oliver came in front of her, looking more passive, tears finally rolling down his cheeks.

"No, Miley…I'm sorry," he whispered. Miley looked down, anger, hurt and so many other emotions filling her up then and there.

"I knew this was a bad idea to begin with," Miley answered.

Oliver shook her head, and with two fingers leveled Miley's eyesight to his. "No, Miley, don't ever regret this moment." Oliver whispered.

"Why not?" Miley said through clenched teeth.

"Because of this," Oliver said, leaned down to her level, and kissed her.

Miley felt an electric spark spread throughout her whole body the minute Oliver's lips made contact with her own. And she couldn't help but enjoy it.

Almost immediately, Miley's arms slid from Oliver's chest to around his neck, as Oliver's arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her close, kissing her deeper and harder, as if it were the last thing he could ever do.

Miley knew it was wrong. Miley knew they would be confused once they pulled apart.

But right in that moment—Miley didn't give a crap. She had the man she loved kissing her, which is all she'd ever dreamed of. At that moment, it didn't feel wrong. It felt so completely _right_. They fit together perfectly, becoming one slowly. Miley could feel Oliver's love for her, Miley tried to send him all the love she had in herself to him.

They would figure out what to do about their feelings later.

But right now, right that instant, was all that mattered.

She was going to make the best out of the most amazing kiss she could've possibly had.

With her best friend; her one true love.


End file.
